


Weeping Flesh And Bone

by GothMoth



Series: Ectobers Ectoplasmic Splatters [26]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Bad Parenting, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Injury, Lancer's Having A Bad Time, Major Character Injury, Self-Destruction, Self-Sacrifice, exposed bone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26825809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMoth/pseuds/GothMoth
Summary: Lancer has seen plenty of troubled youths over the years, but when it comes down to it? No one’s worried or concerned him like Daniel does.And no one’s left him feeling as helpless either.A man’s worth is tested when faced with their worst nightmare. For a teacher that worth is determined by what they can do to guide the young. But sometimes what the young need is a hero to save them. And when it comes down to it, isn’t that what a teacher is? A hero who will be there when a child’s family and friends will not?
Series: Ectobers Ectoplasmic Splatters [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511411
Comments: 45
Kudos: 306
Collections: You haven’t lived if you haven’t read this





	1. Can’t Stop Those Feet From Sinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man’s heart is known by how much he cares. For a teacher that heart is measured by their willingness to genuinely see and hear the troubles of the young. But sometimes the young forget how to speak.  
> “Because a heroes not afraid to give his life”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ectober 2020 Day 4: Youth

Lancer’s used to worrying about Daniel, had worried about the boy all his young life. From the day he was born into a dangerous house and possibly negligent parents. He worried over Jasmine too, of course; but she had always done well for herself. Her future was to be a bright one. 

He’d hoped the same for Daniel. And with Jasmine there, that hope felt founded. In the beginning, that hope seemed founded and actualised. The boy was bright and happy. He was bullied sure, but he had a strong future and the drive for it. The keyword there was ‘had’ though. Because Highschool came and Daniel just...

Collapsed. 

If Lancer were to use the kind of terminology that would make the boy smile, he’d say that it was like Daniel was a star that just burned too bright and too hot only to suddenly die and annihilate everything nearby. 

Where the boy was once happy and eager, he became paranoid and seemingly too tired to care about _anything_. Where there was once perfect attendance and near-flawless homework, changed to the worst attendance Lancer’s ever seen and it had been as if the word ‘homework’ wasn’t even a thing to the boy anymore. And that was without even getting started on all the destruction of school property or the injuries. 

The injuries were when Lancer’s worry over Daniel truly made itself known again. Depression and abuse both crossed his mind. Or maybe the bullying was getting worse. But there weren’t any other signs really. And it wasn’t just him. 

It was his friends too. Sure they never seemed as hurt or as tired or as tardy, but still. If this wasn’t Amity, he’d have worried that they’d gotten involved in gangs or even possibly drugs. Those were functionally nonexistent in Amity though. 

How all three seemed to handle the injuries so well and clearly by themselves, hurt him inside a little, but could he really inquire about it? He tried. He tried _many times_. But he was always waved off. Always given an excuse or sympathetic look. Like Daniel felt bad _for Lancer_ over him being worried. Lancer didn’t want to make Daniel feel bad and his talks with the boy never seemed to change anything. 

So he dropped it. And instead just hoped the boy would be okay. He had close friends and a smart level-headed sister. Jasmine being close with him was what really made Lancer feel a bit better. She wouldn’t let anything truly bad happen to her baby brother. She would speak up if something was truly wrong. She’d come to Lancer or someone else qualified if Daniel needed it. In fact, she _had_ done that once or twice. 

Then she was gone. Left for university. And Lancer worried more. Sure he was so very proud of the girl, but Daniel honestly needed her to stay. Lancer needed her to stay just to sleep better at night. Because Lancer knew Samatha and Tucker wouldn’t reach out for anyone. Jasmine would get help if that was what was best and needed. But the trio would likely let one of them nearly die before seeking help, and even that was debatable. Lancer had hoped dearly that his increased worry was unnecessary when Daniel didn’t seem to get worse. 

Until he _did_ get worse. Lancer wouldn’t have even noticed if he didn’t watch the boy as closely as he did. Daniel was simply too good at hiding things and pretending. That honestly terrified Lancer. Just the same as catching the whiffs of alcohol or sight of hard pain meds had terrified him. And even worse, that seemingly coincided with the boy seeming less stable. He twitched often and that paranoia of his was near-constant. Lancer put it together quickly, Jasmine’s main focus was psychology. She wanted to be a therapist. 

Well, it seemed she already _had_ _been_ a therapist. She had been giving him mental help. Which just made Lancer doubt that belief that she would take Daniel to get proper help if he needed it. Which just made him even more worried that something bad was happening. Yet still, Daniel wouldn’t talk to him. And trying just seemed to make the boy more tired every time. Lancer backed off again when Daniel started seemingly avoiding any classes with him. 

He was silently happy when Daniel started actually showing to and choosing his classes again. 

Because if Lancer couldn’t help, then at least he could keep a watchful eye. And he could do what he could and try to keep the trio all in the same classes, keep them together. At least then there was someone to take notes for him when he slept, skipped, or left. 

But then they were gone too. 

Lancer doesn’t know how it happened. Or why. All he knows is that between their junior year and senior year, Samantha’s and Tucker’s priorities changed. Sure he was happy to see them trying harder in school and doing better because of it. Their futures would arguably thank them. But the cost was Daniel. 

Where the trio had once been inseparable and constantly there for each other, now Samantha and Tucker seemingly near forgot Daniel even existed. Like they were doing everything they could to have nothing to do with him. They would wave to him sometimes. Throw him smiles. But would physically and verbally avoid him. And the worst thing was...

Daniel seemed to just accept this. Seemed to understand. Like he thought this was for the best. 

The boy didn’t try to chase after them, never engaged them first, went on like this was what was supposed to happen. Lancer had been too stunned to even ask what happened. To check-in with the boy. The pit in his stomach and the growing fear in the back of his head only grew when he noticed that Samantha and Tucker didn’t seem to get injuries anymore. How they seemed well-rested, happier, and arguably normal.

While if Daniel had been dancing on the edge of a cliff before, now he had seemingly plummeted off it. In the months it took for Lancer to put himself together enough to talk to the boy, he doesn’t think a single day went by were Daniel wasn’t noticeably injured. Listening to the gossip of teachers made it clear he was sleeping in nearly every single class, hadn’t touched any homework, and was effectively failing _everything_. Lancer’s breaking point had been running into him at the bottle recycle, with nothing but liquor bottles and energy drink cans. 

“This looks worse than it is”.

Lancer had raised an eyebrow, “does it?”. He knew better than to push too much with the boy. Daniel had been shuffling and twitching enough as it was. 

Daniel had shrugged while looking around and tapping his fingers, clearly wanting the worker to hurry up. “‘S not all mine”.

“Your parents’ don’t drink, Daniel”.

“Uh, it... doesn’t affect me as hard as other people?”.

Lancer had just sighed, had bitten back the retort of that just being what happens when people build up a tolerance by drinking too much too often. Instead had given the boy a sad look as he left with his depressingly large amount of cash. 

That night he had had a hard time sleeping, seriously worrying over wondering if Daniel was in his room or off in the park, alone and curled up with a bottle. Or doing whatever it was that got him so seriously hurt. He was so terrified that he, and everyone else, would only find out when Daniel ended up in the morgue. When the teen was found bleeding out in an alley. Or unable to be woken up, wrapped in heavy blankets and a bottle on the floor. Or, everything forbid, at the end of a noose. 

Lancer’s used to worrying about Daniel, but this was too much. Part of him had wanted to call Daniel’s parents, that idea had gotten him staring at his phone for well over an hour. But he already knew they had written Daniel off. He had tried to talk to them before, they just brushed his worry off. Even chastised Daniel for ‘making Mr. Lancer worry over a kid who’s just lazy’. And they either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Daniel had been shaking. Lancer had revisited the idea that Daniel was being abused that night. But there simply was no way Jasmine wouldn’t have spoken up about that. None. 

So that worry, that he just simply couldn’t sit on anymore, was what finds him here now. Physically grabbing Daniel’s sweater sleeve to stop him from leaving class. Hating how the boy twitches violently and looks to Lancer like he was about to get attacked. Not for the first time Lancer finds himself wondering what kind of Hell the world has put this teen through. 

“Yes?”. 

Lancer knows he won’t get Daniel to open up to him. To be honest with him. So instead he’s blunt, “you’re not okay. And I wish you would tell me, or anyone, why. You’re always hurt and tired. You’re coping with liquor, Daniel. Something’s very wrong. And it doesn’t seem like anyone around you even cares. Your parents have seemingly written you off. Jasmine is away. And Samantha and Tucker seemed to have forgotten you even exist half the time”.

Daniel scratches almost harshly at his arm and flicks his eyes around, “it’s fine”. 

Lancer tightens his grip on the boy’s sweater, noting how little of the sweater sleeve the boy’s arm was actually filling up. He wasn’t eating enough. “No it’s goddamn not”. 

Daniel blinks at him owlishly and stills, Lancer thinks it actually looks a little bit creepy. “you... you just _swore_ ”. 

Lancer flicks his eyes over Daniel’s face. Noticing the hollowed cheeks and eye-bags that could be mistaken for eyeliner. “Because I _care_ , Daniel. I’m goddamn terrified for you. I’m scared you’re _dying_. That I’m going to wake up to the news saying you were found dead or committed suicide. You need some kind of help and you’re clearly not getting it”.

Daniel shrugs awkwardly, clearly trying to play things off, “uh, I’m, uh, just bad at life?”. Lancer can’t help but glare at that, watching the boy's shoulders slump a little, “sorry. I don’t mean to worry you. Just, _please_ , just ignore me? I promise the town won’t have to, um, _bury_ me”. Daniel grabs at Lancer’s hand like he’s begging, “I’m still here, that’s not going to change. So _please_ , just _pretend_ I’m okay”, shrugging and looking away, “um, eventually you’ll convince yourself I am”. 

Lancer blinks, is _that_ what his friends were doing? Just _pretending_ he was okay? That he didn’t need help? “I can’t do that, Daniel”. 

Daniel looks back to him and snaps, though it’s clear to Lancer that it’s out of tiredness, “and why the Hell not”. Then looking to the ground and leaning away from him a bit, “sorry. It’s just... it would be better. You don’t belong here. Er, involved in me and my, um, stuff”, shrugging and maintaining his staring match with the floor, “‘s not like anything can change”, shrugging again, “save yourself by staying out of it. You’re more, um, _breakable_ ”.

Lancer bends down and moves his head to look Daniel in the eyes, “that doesn’t make sense, Daniel. You’re young-”

Daniel snaps again, glaring a little and cutting Lancer off, “yeah well the truth doesn’t have to make sense, does it”. Shrugging and glancing around, scratching at his arm some more, “sorry. Look, just, I’ll be gone after this year. And you can just, um, forget about me?”, shrugging and mumbling, “everyone else hopefully will”. 

This is the most Lancer’s ever gotten out of the boy, he has to push this. He _has to._ “Why? And no, Daniel, I _will not_ just _forget_ about you”.

Daniel mumbles again, “just gonna get hurt”, then looks up at him, “‘cause, just ‘cause. It’s better. You got a life, they’ve got futures. Just, drop it _please_?”. 

Lancer can tell he’s referring to his friends basically pushing him to the wayside. Lancer sighs slightly, it seems like Daniel had simply... given up hope for himself. “And you don’t?”. 

Lancer’s stomach clenches when Daniel responds with a firm sure, “no”. Lancer physically sagging and drops his hand from Daniel’s sleeve at the sight of mist leaving the boy’s mouth. Daniel always ran off when that, whatever it was, happened. And sure enough, Daniel jerks and snaps his head around, “just, forget you ever met me. Forget I even exist. _Please_. And I, uh-”.

Lancer waves him off defeatedly, “go”. He can tell that Daniel feels bad when the boy winces before rushing off. 

While Lancer just sits on the edge of his desk. It was pretty clear Daniel was effectively alone and had no intention of changing that. Even _wanted_ that. He was a house that had all its support beams smashed out, barely holding itself up at all. And there was something, some awful dangerous thing, haunting that house. Chasing off anyone trying to install new support structures. 

Lancer goes home that night feeling honestly worse than before. And worried that all he had achieved was making Daniel feel worse too.


	2. Just Don’t Tell Me What You See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man’s strength is tested when faced with their worst nightmare. For a teacher that strength is measured by how far they’ll go to help the young. But sometimes the help the young need is too much to ask of anyone.  
> “I need a hero to save me now”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ectober 2020 Day 5: Colors

He’s left unsurprised that sleep simply refuses to come that night, staring up at his ceiling and books didn’t help any. Daniel was involved in something dangerous, something that he felt he simply couldn’t get out of or away from. Samantha and Tucker could and did, at Daniel’s expense. And Daniel wasn’t getting help because _he_ was terrified of others getting involved and hurt. And Samantha and Tucker _had_ been getting hurt because of whatever Daniel had gotten himself involved in. So it wasn’t even like the boy’s fears were unfounded. Quite the opposite it seemed. And... Daniel wanted them to have their futures, to live life well. Felt that no one could do that if they stuck around him. 

Lancer just can’t ignore him or forget though, and he shouldn’t really. Actively didn’t want to, even if he was scared and sad for Daniel. So he gets up and grabs his wool coat, he wasn’t going to sleep tonight and a walk always helped. At the very least it might give him some direction to go with Daniel. Something he can do for him or to get the boy to open up even slightly. Before he graduates and falls out of Lancer’s reach. And maybe quell the worry that Daniel spent his nights wandering around town drinking or getting hurt.

Walking out the door and heading down the sidewalk at random; regardless of Daniel's promise’, behind his eyelids Lancer could still see the imagined image of the boy laying on a metal examination table. Or laying in a pool of blood or alcohol. 

And Lancer.... Lancer wasn’t prepared for that mental image to practically smack him in the face in real life. Turning his head only to see the boy at the end of an alley, bent over with one hand to the wall and clearly holding himself up. While the other was wrapped around his stomach, red dripping thickly from there to the ground. Ground that was also coated in bright glowing green. The fact that ectoplasm was never involved in his nightmares over Daniel wasn’t actually comforting though. 

“ _Daniel_ ”, Lancer hates how breathless he sounds. And how he jumps a little at Daniel’s head snapping towards him, barely catching green eyes turn blue. Ghosts had been plaguing Amity for three years now, he _knew_ what eyes like that meant. But... a ghost couldn’t overshadow a badly hurt body. That was a fact. 

The two stare at each other for a while, neither moving, while Lancer comes to the only conclusion he thinks is remotely logical. Eyes like that mean ghost, they always do. And the ectoplasm looked as unfortunately fresh as the blood. Somehow Daniel was... dead. Had already suffered the thing Lancer feared he would. But him, his body, still seemed living. So he also wasn’t... dead. Or maybe he _was_ dying and this forsaken town just made that more noticeable. But the injuries, nothing explained that. Explained this. Clearing his throat and repeating himself, “ _Daniel_ ”, and moving to walk over to him slowly, trying to seem as friendly as possible. Seeing him shaking and eyes flicking around in panic.

Jerking to a stop when Daniel turns to face him sharply and steps backwards a bit, baring his teeth and growling a little, “go away”. Lancer’s pretty sure he can see fangs and sharp teeth. 

But this also gets him to notice the state Daniel’s in. The hand that isn’t holding him up on the wall was holding his insides up and pulling skin closed. He had been _torn open_. Swallowing a bit harshly, Lancer takes another step forward, testing the waters. Watching the blue flicker green again and now sharp nails cutting into the wall with unpleasant scraping sounds. He wasn’t dealing with the human Daniel he was used to seeing at school, the paranoid meek tired teen that worried him so. But a cornered ghost, potentially aggressive and threatening. And pain didn’t help anyone act normal.

So Lancer tries speaking to him again, making a point to sound gentle and push down the revulsion of the gore splattered around, “Daniel, you’re hurt. Badly. It’s me, okay? William Lancer? Just- let me _help you_ , Daniel”. He didn’t mean to sound begging at the end, but that’s how it wanted to come out. Maybe that’s just what he needed. 

Daniel bares his teeth again and leans forward a bit in a show that Lancer definitely recognises as aggression and attempted intimidation. He was still in fight or flight, with the latter not being an option, “why? Why can’t you just let it go? Let me go? Chasing me. Following after me. I’m not your fucking problem”, snarling then, “ **just get away!** ”. 

Lancer has to force himself not to flinch from the volume and scratching echo of his voice. If Lancer wasn’t careful, Daniel could wind up hurting himself even worse or even hurting _him_. So he keeps his voice even and calm, “I wasn’t following you, Daniel. I simply needed to go for a walk”, sighing, “I couldn’t sleep. Reading and tea weren’t helping”.

Lancer’s not sure how Daniel can look like he’s frowning while still baring his teeth, “you couldn’t... sleep”. Lancer nods slowly, deciding any fast movements would just make the jumpy boy more jumpy. Daniel scrunches his eyebrows slightly, the green eyes fading to blue again, “your first name’s... William?”. 

Lancer nods, a little surprised he’s never told Daniel that. But maybe that was a blessing in disguise right now. “Yeah, yeah it is”. Hopefully that little bit of knowledge with let Daniel open up even a little to him. At least let him help him right now. 

Daniel just stares at him instead of responding but does close his lips, stops baring his teeth, so Lancer takes a chance and pushes him by stepping a little closer and holding out his hand. “Come on Daniel, let me help. I doubt I can do much, but let me _do something._ You’re bleeding _a lot._ I don’t want you to suffer more than what can’t be helped. Don’t let yourself die”.

Daniel scowls, glances to the wall and pulls his nails out of the wall before looking back to him, “I’m already dead”.

Lancer swallows, so one of Lancer’s worst fears was a reality. That doesn’t change how Lancer feels though, this boy’s still Daniel, he’s still his student, he’s still a _person_ , and Lancer is still so very worried. “Ghosts can still _die_ ”. _Death_ for ghosts was likely called something different. Daniel confirming that while giving him a very confused look, “it’s... it’s called fading”. 

Lancer nods a little and steps a bit closer, close enough to put his hand gently on Daniel’s shoulder, “then don’t fade, alright? I’ll do what I can to help, okay? Will you let me do that? I won’t ask the who, how, or why unless you want me to, okay?”. Lancer only manages to stay upright due to Daniel’s disturbingly low weight, when the boy just collapses into him. Instantly worrying him so much more, he had no way to know what ‘fading’ looked like. How to tell if Daniel was starting to ‘fade’ if that even was the right way to say it. “Daniel? Are you okay? Are you still with me here?”.

Lancer lets out a slow breath when Daniel responds quietly, “just get me away from here”. 

“Okay. I can do that. Are you okay going to my house? I live alone”. 

“...That’s fine”. 

Lancer nods, that’s probably the best he’s going to get out of him. He’d rather not move him at all but if Daniel wants out of here then that’s what Lancer’s going to do. He’s also not sure if he should be happy or not that Daniel walks himself, even if leaning against him. If he’s a ghost, then shouldn’t he be able to float? That would run less risk of aggravating his injury, or possible injuries plural. Maybe he was too weak to? He wants to ask, but Daniel’s _letting him help_ and he refuses to mess that up or add to Daniel’s suffering further by pushing him. 

Once they get out of the alley Lancer pauses at Daniel squeezing his shirt and speaking, “um, wait, please”. Watching Daniel with confusion as he points the palm of his hand that isn’t holding his torso together into the alleyway; Lancer seemingly being all that’s holding him up. 

Lancer blinks and clenches his jaw to keep from gaping when Daniel fires _a ball of blue fire out of his palm into the alley_ , setting everything on fire instantly. Lancer doesn’t need to ask why, he knows. Daniel was destroying the evidence. Destroying his blood and ectoplasm, and whatever else might be in there. 

Lancer gets them moving again as Daniel drops his arm and slumps into him more, and is definitely having a harder time walking now. Maybe he wasn’t floating to save up whatever energy he had to do that instead? Hopefully using that energy didn’t just make him worse. 

Daniel speaks up after a bit, “um, you aren’t going to ask, about, well, that?”.

Lancer shakes his head, “I said I wouldn’t ask. Though I believe I understand anyway”. 

“I don’t understand you”. Lancer doesn’t get a chance to comment on that as Daniel starts up again, “I wrecked your coat”.

Lancer swallows, Daniel was too selfless. He was horribly injured and he was instead focused on Lancer’s _clothing_. Maybe it was a distraction technique, he hopes it’s that. Not that Daniel values his own health and safety so little that a piece of fabric was more important. “That’s fine, Daniel. It’s old. _You are more important._ Fabric is replaceable, people _aren’t_. Fabric doesn’t hurt, people _do_. And it’s okay to not understand. Just know that I _mean it_ when I say I care and that I want to help”. 

“Dangerous. Dangerous to care”. The rather clipped way Daniel said that makes Lancer freeze, “Daniel? Daniel, are you okay?”. 

Daniel blinks slowly and lifts his hand off his stomach enough to scratch his other arm, “sorry, uh, I’m gonna pass out”. Lancer having to bend down a bit to catch him fully and lowering him to the ground slowly. Cursing under his breath over the state of Daniel’s stomach, since the boy wasn’t conscious to hold it anymore. So he tears off his jacket, not caring if he damages any of the buttons, and uses that to hold him together. Standing and readjusting to be carrying the boy instead of just supporting him, making a point to walk as fast as he can without jostling Daniel anymore than he can’t help. He wasn’t in the best of shape and this certainly wasn’t something he truly knew how to handle, but he had basic first aid and he’d do what he could; even if all that turned out to be was giving him a place to seek shelter, so he can heal. Ghosts were really durable weren’t they? Phantom sure seemed it. He hopes Daniel’s just as, if not more, durable. It saddens him that Daniel probably knows _exactly_ how durable he is. 

Getting back to his house, he decides the best place to do anything would be the kitchen table. Setting Daniel down as gently as he possibly can and cringing over his limpness before rushing to the bathroom and tearing off the shower curtain, throwing that over the table before getting Daniel to lay down on it. 

Lancer very carefully unwraps his jacket from the teen, seriously hoping that’s the right corse of action. And under his kitchen lights the damage was a lot more noticeable, it was smooth instead of jagged, more like he had been cut methodically than attacked. This wasn’t a freak accident or anything, someone had done this to him intentionally. 

Lancer sits down and rubs his forehead, this was incredibly bad, far worse than he thought. But he can’t let Daniel see him freaked out because then the boy will feel bad and maybe hide something even _worse_. If that was even possible. 

Putting his hand down and standing, breathing a few times before trying to look him over without feeling incredibly bothered and disturbed. It’s not an easy task, because, after cutting off what’s left of his t-shirt and managing to wipe off most of the blood and ectoplasm, he sees _exactly_ what kind of shape Daniel’s in. 

He was skin and bones, littered with scars, had a few definite burns, and what looks like a snake bite on his shoulder. And then there was the major injury. The thing that’s certainly the cause behind him passing out, combined with probable overexertion and maybe a lack of energy. 

This looked like definite knife marks, or something larger but equally as sharp. Like someone had attempted to slice him open down the middle but veered off to the left making the... mark curved. Lancer’s positive he can see exposed rib and has to forcibly avoid gagging. The bone looked to be scored as well and was glowing green faintly. Whoever did this put some serious force behind it, which makes Lancer noticeably cringe. The amount of _pain_ Daniel must be in...

Maybe he should go find the pain medication, just in case. Who is Lancer kidding? He just needs some kind of _break_ from this. From the nightmare become real. He makes it quick though, not wanting Daniel to wake up and run off. He’s sure if that happened then Daniel would never acknowledge any of this ever happened. Would show in class tomorrow like it was nothing and brush Lancer off. Maybe try to convince him it was all just an over-realistic dream. 

Lancer rather wishes this _was_ a nightmare.

Regardless, he takes a breath to steady himself before opening his first aid. Folding out one of the disinfectant wipes and hoping to everything this is the right thing to do. As intense and thorough as the staff training had become, cleaning exposed ribs and re-organising organs wasn’t something that was taught. Or should have to be. _Ever_. 

Lancer almost wishes everything was green instead of vulnerable human red, it made it impossible to fully swallow down bile or keep his hands from shaking. But... this confirms Daniel is _not dead_. So too did the pulse he can feel against his fingers when he stills for breathers. 

But that makes him question the boy’s durability, his ability to survive this. Lancer wanted to believe Daniel when he said he was okay, said he would be. Lancer _always_ wanted to believe him. He never did. Never could. And now more than ever, he wishes he could. 

Pausing and staring down, he doesn’t think he can even do anything more for the... insides. Should he? Glancing to the kit, he’s got nothing that could work as stitching. Could butterfly bandages work? The least he could do is try and hope that doesn’t hurt the boy more. 


	3. Got The Best Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A man’s success is proven by his affect on the world and those around him. For a teacher that success is measured by how bright of a future path their students walk down. But sometimes that student’s brightest path is nothing but darkness and suffering.  
> “I’ve got a hero living in me”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ectober 2020 Day 8: Shackles

Lancer stiffens and pauses just before he’s going to open the fourth bandage when Daniel turns his head to the side and scrunches up his eyebrows. Daniel sighing after a bit, “alley, again?”, blinking and squinting up at the kitchen light, “not alley”. Then snapping his head to Lancer, making him cringe. Daniel shouldn’t be moving so much. 

“Careful”, Lancer can’t find any other words at the moment, especially as Daniel pushes himself up slowly. 

Daniel looks down to the damage, hair falling to cover his eyes, “I...”, glancing around the kitchen slowly, “did you... carry me the whole way?”, Daniel sounds genuinely baffled and that feels like a knife stab to the gut. 

Lancer nods at him softly. Daniel scrunches up his eyebrows and looks back to him, “ _why_?”. 

Lancer knows full well that Daniel’s not asking why he brought him here specifically, but rather why he even bothered in the first place. “Because I care. And I’m going to tell you that as many times as it takes for you to believe me”. Especially now. Now that he knew it was _so much worse_ then he could have imagined. 

Daniel stares at him for a bit, confusion written across his face. Was it really so hard for the boy to believe someone could care? To believe that someone would see him and lend their hand instead of turning away from him? In a sort of sad miserable way Lancer understands. Because that’s exactly what everyone else had done. Had turned away from him. The way that makes his stomach clench only serves to make him feel more queasy. 

Daniel looks away, to his stomach, and puts his hand over it, below the still open major wound, “you didn’t... have to do that. My body would have, uh, put itself back together eventually”. Lancer absolutely hates that he knows Daniel knows that for a fact. 

“What’s done is done, and I’m not going to regret my choice”, thumbing the bandage in his fingers, “certainly this will at least help. Do you think you could lie back down?”.

Daniel gives him an incredibly confused look, “I don’t understand you”, but thankfully does lay down slowly. Lancer has a bad feeling that Daniel was not unused to someone patching him up. 

Lancer speaks as he opens the bandage, wiping away a bit of blood that had seeped out of the wound due to Daniel jostling it, “you said that earlier”. 

“Did I?”.

Lancer just nods, Daniel must have either been pretty out of it or blinded by pain to not remember. But it really hammers home _just how much_ Daniel just _couldn’t_ grasp someone wanting to be there for him. 

Lancer hates how Daniel doesn’t so much as flinch as he works in silence to bandage the rest of his torso together. 

He wants to ask who did this, how often this happened. But he said he wouldn’t, so he won’t. He won’t risk this small honesty, this small openness, like that. It was far too precious. It shouldn’t be. But it was. 

Lancer speaks back up as he unrolls bandaging; Daniel pushing himself to sit up again like this is routine. “Careful”. Daniel gives him a small nod and looks off to the side while Lancer wraps him up, before moving to the burn cream for his shoulder. The injury looked minor enough that it would do him some good. 

Daniel seemingly knows what he’s doing without having to look, which tells Lancer far more than the boy probably knows. “I don’t need that either”. 

“You’re getting it”. Lancer is thankful that he doesn’t argue with him on that as he caps the small bottle. “Do you have any other injuries?”.

Daniel looks to him, seemingly studying him. Which tells Lancer the answer was ‘yes’ and Daniel was deciding whether to tell him or not. Lancer hopes to everything that Daniel takes the leap of faith. 

“No”. 

Lancer sighs but nods and doesn’t push. Pulling the gloves off his hands. “Would you be more comfortable on the couch? I don’t have a spare room, but-”.

Daniel doesn’t let him finish, sliding himself off the table to stand, “no that’s fine. I, uh, should probably head home”. 

“I’d rather you didn’t”. Lancer makes a point to make eye contact, so that Daniel knows he means it. Knows he wants him to stay. Knows that he’s worried. So very worried. 

Daniel scratches at his arm, effectively covering the bandaging pulled snug around his too-small frame, “I shouldn’t”. And Lancer knows this is him trying to protect others from being caught up in his life and problems again. 

So Lancer tries a different tactic. “It would help me sleep at night”. Daniel cringes at that. 

“I... okay”. Lancer doesn’t like how defeated that sounded. But that’s not something he can do anything about unfortunately, as he watches the boy walk himself over to the living room; finding the couch with ease. 

Lancer decides, in that moment, that he’s cleaning out the storage room and heading to the local used store for a spare bed frame and mattress. Daniel’s home wasn’t a home anymore. But maybe, hopefully, Lancer could give him something of one if he ever let himself accept it. Even if it was only just one room. Lancer _will_ put a deluxe first aid kit in there too. Maybe that will at least get him to come here when he gets hurt. 

‘When’ not ‘if’. 

Because Lancer knows better, especially now. Going to grab the boy a blanket or two and returning, eyeing the boys scarring as he hands them over. _So much damage._ And no one noticed. His friends had been with him through it and just... didn’t care or simply accepted it as ‘fate’. Now he understood the alcohol, cheap pain medication that caused less suspicion than keeping a collection of medications would. 

Did Jasmine even know? 

She had to. She was too observant not to. He doesn’t want to think about the implications of that. His parents... probably didn’t. 

Right. 

Daniel was, in some way, a ghost. _Dead_. And he lived with ghost hunters. He can’t help the way his stomach ties in knots over that. But he knows if he asks he won’t get an answer. So instead... “is it alright if I ask how you... died?”. A part of him needs to know. _Has to._ Could he have prevented it?

Daniel looks up from the couch at him, blankets adjusted to cover all but his head, “that’s, um, kinda rude to ask but... electrocution”. Lancer doesn’t miss how his eyes flicker green for a second. “One of my parents’ inventions”. 

Lancer’s stomach drops at that. _No_. That was just so... _wrong_. Lancer never, _never_ , wanted his worries, his fears, to be confirmed like this. Desperately didn’t. If he hadn’t just hoped, stupidly hoped, that Jasmine was fine so he would be too. Then maybe...

Daniel pulls his left hand out from under the blanket and blinks at it while opening and closing it. “It was my fault. I was messing around where I shouldn’t have been. With things I shouldn’t have been”. That, in Lancer’s opinion, didn’t make it better. A parent should never _ever_ keep something that could _kill their child_ where they could play with it. Lancer watches the boy's hand, feeling bile in his throat when he recognises the kind of scarring; he would have realised sooner if there weren’t _so many others over top._

_Lichtenberg figures._

And if memory serves him, they covered even his chest. _The sheer amount of electricity that would require_. Part of him wishes he hadn’t asked. 

Swallowing, “I’m sorry. Do you... want anything? For the pain? Or to drink?”. 

Daniel looks to him, pulling his hand back under the blanket, “don’t be. I accepted it a long time ago. And I’m not, uh, _entirely_ dead”. Lancer can’t help the small relieved sigh at that. He’s not going to question the ‘how’, that shouldn’t be possible after all, instead he’ll take it for what it is. Daniel was _alive_. If Daniel noticed his relief he doesn’t show it. “And no. I’m fine. I don’t need anything. Just get some rest”. 

Lancer sighs, “I should be telling you that”, but leaves the boy be regardless. Heading back into the kitchen to clean up as quietly as he can and prep the coffee machine for the morning. He had a gut feeling that Daniel _was_ thirsty, but just didn’t want to be an inconvenience. At least this way he can make coffee when it’s closer to morning for Daniel and pass it off as wanting some himself.

Lancer lets a small smile spread across his face when he checks up on Daniel, having gotten everything cleaned. He was sound asleep. And Lancer couldn’t be happier over that. Even if he was also sad. 

So very sad. 

If he had done things differently. If he did less worrying and more doing. Then maybe Daniel wouldn’t be like this. Wouldn’t be here. Maybe he would still look at the stars like he would own them one day and be well on his way to doing just that. Instead of partly dead and seemingly bound to whatever was hurting him so.

But second-guessing himself does no good. All he could hope to achieve by doing that was making Daniel feel bad for him again. And he refuses to do that to the boy. 

So instead he’ll just try to be there enough to keep the rest of him alive and the ghost part from ‘fading’. He’ll do what he can in the ways that he can. And he’ll just have to hope that someone else will do everything in the ways that he can’t. And that Daniel will _let them._

* * *

It takes only a few hours for the sun to begin to rise. Lancer glances to the clock and starts up the coffee, him and Daniel would need to get ready for school soon. He wants to tell the boy to stay. To rest. But he knows he won’t. Lancer has a bad feeling he’s gone to school after suffering worse. 

He leaves Daniel’s cup on the side table before heading up to get ready himself. Staring at his showers wall as the water falls. The water felt good, but it did little for his mind. This forsaken town. Ghosts. Ghost hunters. Lancer can’t help but think that maybe everything would be better if none of it existed. But Daniel said he was okay with his... death. And surprisingly...

Lancer _believes him._

But heading back down the stairs, Lancer’s not surprised that Daniel’s gone; the mug empty. But he can’t help the way it makes him sigh and slump down into his old weathered recliner. Rubbing his tired forehead. 

He’s also not surprised that when he sees Daniel at school later that day, the boy acts like nothing ever happened.

But...

He doesn’t say ‘no’ when Lancer offers to go get coffee with him. 

**End.**


End file.
